Ficlet: Five Times Drake Tried to Give Ryan "The Talk" and One Time Norrin Decided to Intervene
For multixcolored on the occasion of her RP anniversary.
1.
When Drake realised that Ryan's principle father figure was the God of Sex and Violence, he knew that he would have to be responsible for the boy's moral education when it came to matters of the heart. It was not that he doubted Azrael's ability to provide very illuminating instruction, but that he might decide that the best educational method was through visiting a brothel. This was probably not a good idea.
Therefore, without any inkling that his daughter may be involved, he sat Ryan down in the cafe and carefully steepled his fingers together, regarding Ryan solemnly.
"There are men and there are women," he intoned. Ryan stared at him as if he'd grown an extra head.
"Uh-huh."
"You and I are male. And...Lady Saxsice and Ysgarlad are female."
Ryan blushed. Drake made a note to leave any further mention of Saxsice out of this discussion. "Okay..."
Drake then reconsidered the direction of this talk. "And Norrin and Azrael are male also."
Ryan seemed to be trying to form a thought but Drake barrelled on, not entirely sure where he was going but sure it had to end well. Really. He could see the future, you know. "When there is affection...and attraction...or simply attraction...but it is best if they go together...there may be...urges."
Drake had not known it possible for a boy to blush scarlet and appear deathly pale at the same time. "ItsfineMomalreadygavemethistalk."
Face flooding with relief, Drake sat back in his chair and sighed. "Very well. Let us drink hot chocolate."
Ryan grinned. "Yeah. That would be great."
2.
It took several attempts, but Lady Saxsice finally convinced him that Ryan and Ysgarlad were probably more than just good friends. Balking at the idea of explaining such things to Ysgarlad, Drake instead opted to pay Ryan a visit and discuss The Great Importance of Being a Gentleman and Avoiding Getting One's Head Impaled on a Pike.
He found them together, drawing some kind of complicated snake that seemed to be both red and blue at the same time. Drake swore that some sections were actually changing colour between the two, but he dismissed that as nonsense.
"Ryan, I would like to speak with you."
"Okay! See you, Carly."
She waved at him without looking up, and several segments of the snake flashed red. Drake wondered if Ryan was responsible for the terrible nickname, but dismissed that from his mind - that would not be conducive to a pleasant conversation.
Drake sat him down with a tall strawberry milkshake and tried to remain relaxed in his chair.
"It has come to my attention that you are courting my daughter."
Bright pink milk was spluttered all over the table and Drake picked up a napkin to wipe the drips from his nose. Alas, his cappuccino was ruined. "Bwuh...what??"
"Do not think you can lie to me, young protector."
Ryan's cheeks were flushed pink and he pushed the milkshake away with a shaking hand. "Uh...yeah. For a while now."
"Has there been kissing?"
More blushing. "...yeah..."
"I trust that you have not..." Drake attempted to find a word that would not bring a blush to his own face.
"No!" Ryan said quickly. "Definitely not. Nothing like that. No."
"Good," Drake said. There was an awkward silence as Drake tried to work out what to say next.
"I...kinda like her. A lot."
The words surprised him and Drake's expression softened. "Then I trust you will not harm her." He stirred his dismal coffee. "I am a Dragon, you know."
"Definitely no harming. Promise." Ryan seemed very firm in this matter. Drake nodded his approval.
"Then...I believe that is all. Yes."
Ryan shot up from his seat and practically ran back up the stairs to Ysgarlad. Drake sighed. Parenting was exceedingly complex - burning knights had been much simpler.
3.
The first time he found Ryan's shirt in Ysgarlad's bedroom, he did not react in an entirely reasonable manner. A blackened scrap of smoking cloth was left in the centre of the kitchen table - when Ysgarlad arrived home from school, she looked at it for a moment, rolled her eyes and went to her room.
"You will come here!" he'd said.
"Colleges!" she'd replied, knowing that her future education prospects were a weapon against which he could not fight.
Therefore, it stood to reason that he would have to speak with Ryan. Dialling the phone, Drake waited for Ryan to pick up, already preparing his words.
"Uh...hi."
"I have something that belongs to you."
Silence. "I guess it's not my baseball cap."
"It is not."
"And I'm guessing it's no longer in one piece."
"That is also correct."
"Riiight...there's nothing I can say here, is there?"
"There is not."
"Okay."
Drake hung up. That had gone better than expected.
4.
After four days of constant crying and refusal to leave her room, Drake was done. His daughter was leaving for college in one week and she had not even packed up her scrying glass. There was clearly only one person to blame.
When he had rung the house, Lady Saxsice had hung up on him. Calling Ryan's cell phone had produced no answer and when Norrin had contacted Azrael, through their status as relatively neutral parties, the Hellgod had no information on Ryan's whereabouts.
There was one option that bore consideration and, from his one visit to the place, he was able to return, pushing his way through the trees to the well-concealed nest. "Ryan?"
A small gasp and then the distinct absence of rustling proved his theory correct. "You cannot hide from me."
"If you're gonna kill me, just get on with it," a disembodied voice said dully. "I'm too miserable to live."
With a sigh, Drake stroked the leaves that granted access and stepped onto the bottom rung of the ladder that led to the treehouse. It was a cheerful mess, the bed unmade (and he would not think about that) and the remnants of takeout cartons and snacks scattered all over the floor. Left to their own devices, these two were capable of perpetrating an ecological apocalypse all by themselves.
Ryan was huddled in a miserable ball, wrapped in a tattered red blanket and surrounded by used tissues. And Drake found he really did not have anything to say and, instead, wrapped Ryan up in his arms and remained there for a long time.
5.
It was one week until their wedding day and Drake felt slightly punch-drunk. Deciding that he should not suffer alone, he paid a visit to Ryan and Carly's new home, where the walls were happily painting themselves and a bookcase was being assembled at a jaunty angle.
"I trust things are progressing well."
As Carly excused herself to have a shower, Ryan sheepishly walked forward, running a hand through his paint-flecked hair. "Hey Drake."
"Hello. I am here to speak about the wedding."
"Oh, right, sure."
Ryan brewed a passable attempt at tea and poured it into cups, setting a chipped jug of milk by Drake's elbow. "Anything in particular?"
Drake kept a neutral expression. "It is about the dowry."
Ryan looked blank. "Dowry?"
"Ysgarlad has not told you? Dragons require a dowry of five hundred gold pieces before the union of their children."
An uneasy look entered Ryan's eyes. Drake carefully picked up his cup and tried not to stare, though he wanted nothing more than to watch the uncensored panic flood Ryan's face.
"And in dollars that would be...?"
"Oh, around one and a half million, I suppose. But I would expect you to have a sizeable gold repository by now, to keep my daughter in the manner to which she has become accustomed."
A glance up confirmed that Ryan was growing paler. This was far too amusing and soon he knew he would crack. "Oh...well, obviously."
"So I can expect the sum tomorrow then?"
Drake appreciated the full meltdown occurring behind Ryan's eyes just as he burst out laughing. A repertoire of emotions ran over Ryan's face, until he settled on weary embarrassment. "Okay, you got me."
Drake sniggered into his teacup and waited for his daughter to return. He was going to enjoy this wedding.
N.
When Norrin spotted the stray cufflinks in the fruit bowl, he was not overly surprised. However, on closer inspection, he recognised the particular pattern and felt that perhaps a few choice words were in order.
After dinner, when father and daughter had retired to talk at each other in Welsh and pretend not to understand, Norrin politely helped dry the dishes and started the conversation.
"Openness is usually appreciated in these situations."
Ryan stared at him for a moment, followed his gaze to the fruit bowl and then tensed. "Er..."
"Drake liked to tell me when he had a liaison, and I have become accustomed to doing the same. As she is mostly her father's daughter, I don't think it will be a problem."
A faint blush started developing on Ryan's cheeks. "Norrin..."
"A wedding ring means commitment, but not...monogamy. Necessarily. You should ask her."
Ryan set down the glass he was holding. "Look, he's-"
"He's Phoenix." Norrin smiled. "He...gets around."
Holding up his hands, Ryan closed his eyes. "Okay, firstly, I didn't need to know that about you guys, and secondly, Carly knows. Mostly because she's also...y'know...we're..."
Norrin smiled. "Oh. Good." At least someone was normal about these things.
1.
When Drake realised that Ryan's principle father figure was the God of Sex and Violence, he knew that he would have to be responsible for the boy's moral education when it came to matters of the heart. It was not that he doubted Azrael's ability to provide very illuminating instruction, but that he might decide that the best educational method was through visiting a brothel. This was probably not a good idea.
Therefore, without any inkling that his daughter may be involved, he sat Ryan down in the cafe and carefully steepled his fingers together, regarding Ryan solemnly.
"There are men and there are women," he intoned. Ryan stared at him as if he'd grown an extra head.
"Uh-huh."
"You and I are male. And...Lady Saxsice and Ysgarlad are female."
Ryan blushed. Drake made a note to leave any further mention of Saxsice out of this discussion. "Okay..."
Drake then reconsidered the direction of this talk. "And Norrin and Azrael are male also."
Ryan seemed to be trying to form a thought but Drake barrelled on, not entirely sure where he was going but sure it had to end well. Really. He could see the future, you know. "When there is affection...and attraction...or simply attraction...but it is best if they go together...there may be...urges."
Drake had not known it possible for a boy to blush scarlet and appear deathly pale at the same time. "ItsfineMomalreadygavemethistalk."
Face flooding with relief, Drake sat back in his chair and sighed. "Very well. Let us drink hot chocolate."
Ryan grinned. "Yeah. That would be great."
2.
It took several attempts, but Lady Saxsice finally convinced him that Ryan and Ysgarlad were probably more than just good friends. Balking at the idea of explaining such things to Ysgarlad, Drake instead opted to pay Ryan a visit and discuss The Great Importance of Being a Gentleman and Avoiding Getting One's Head Impaled on a Pike.
He found them together, drawing some kind of complicated snake that seemed to be both red and blue at the same time. Drake swore that some sections were actually changing colour between the two, but he dismissed that as nonsense.
"Ryan, I would like to speak with you."
"Okay! See you, Carly."
She waved at him without looking up, and several segments of the snake flashed red. Drake wondered if Ryan was responsible for the terrible nickname, but dismissed that from his mind - that would not be conducive to a pleasant conversation.
Drake sat him down with a tall strawberry milkshake and tried to remain relaxed in his chair.
"It has come to my attention that you are courting my daughter."
Bright pink milk was spluttered all over the table and Drake picked up a napkin to wipe the drips from his nose. Alas, his cappuccino was ruined. "Bwuh...what??"
"Do not think you can lie to me, young protector."
Ryan's cheeks were flushed pink and he pushed the milkshake away with a shaking hand. "Uh...yeah. For a while now."
"Has there been kissing?"
More blushing. "...yeah..."
"I trust that you have not..." Drake attempted to find a word that would not bring a blush to his own face.
"No!" Ryan said quickly. "Definitely not. Nothing like that. No."
"Good," Drake said. There was an awkward silence as Drake tried to work out what to say next.
"I...kinda like her. A lot."
The words surprised him and Drake's expression softened. "Then I trust you will not harm her." He stirred his dismal coffee. "I am a Dragon, you know."
"Definitely no harming. Promise." Ryan seemed very firm in this matter. Drake nodded his approval.
"Then...I believe that is all. Yes."
Ryan shot up from his seat and practically ran back up the stairs to Ysgarlad. Drake sighed. Parenting was exceedingly complex - burning knights had been much simpler.
3.
The first time he found Ryan's shirt in Ysgarlad's bedroom, he did not react in an entirely reasonable manner. A blackened scrap of smoking cloth was left in the centre of the kitchen table - when Ysgarlad arrived home from school, she looked at it for a moment, rolled her eyes and went to her room.
"You will come here!" he'd said.
"Colleges!" she'd replied, knowing that her future education prospects were a weapon against which he could not fight.
Therefore, it stood to reason that he would have to speak with Ryan. Dialling the phone, Drake waited for Ryan to pick up, already preparing his words.
"Uh...hi."
"I have something that belongs to you."
Silence. "I guess it's not my baseball cap."
"It is not."
"And I'm guessing it's no longer in one piece."
"That is also correct."
"Riiight...there's nothing I can say here, is there?"
"There is not."
"Okay."
Drake hung up. That had gone better than expected.
4.
After four days of constant crying and refusal to leave her room, Drake was done. His daughter was leaving for college in one week and she had not even packed up her scrying glass. There was clearly only one person to blame.
When he had rung the house, Lady Saxsice had hung up on him. Calling Ryan's cell phone had produced no answer and when Norrin had contacted Azrael, through their status as relatively neutral parties, the Hellgod had no information on Ryan's whereabouts.
There was one option that bore consideration and, from his one visit to the place, he was able to return, pushing his way through the trees to the well-concealed nest. "Ryan?"
A small gasp and then the distinct absence of rustling proved his theory correct. "You cannot hide from me."
"If you're gonna kill me, just get on with it," a disembodied voice said dully. "I'm too miserable to live."
With a sigh, Drake stroked the leaves that granted access and stepped onto the bottom rung of the ladder that led to the treehouse. It was a cheerful mess, the bed unmade (and he would not think about that) and the remnants of takeout cartons and snacks scattered all over the floor. Left to their own devices, these two were capable of perpetrating an ecological apocalypse all by themselves.
Ryan was huddled in a miserable ball, wrapped in a tattered red blanket and surrounded by used tissues. And Drake found he really did not have anything to say and, instead, wrapped Ryan up in his arms and remained there for a long time.
5.
It was one week until their wedding day and Drake felt slightly punch-drunk. Deciding that he should not suffer alone, he paid a visit to Ryan and Carly's new home, where the walls were happily painting themselves and a bookcase was being assembled at a jaunty angle.
"I trust things are progressing well."
As Carly excused herself to have a shower, Ryan sheepishly walked forward, running a hand through his paint-flecked hair. "Hey Drake."
"Hello. I am here to speak about the wedding."
"Oh, right, sure."
Ryan brewed a passable attempt at tea and poured it into cups, setting a chipped jug of milk by Drake's elbow. "Anything in particular?"
Drake kept a neutral expression. "It is about the dowry."
Ryan looked blank. "Dowry?"
"Ysgarlad has not told you? Dragons require a dowry of five hundred gold pieces before the union of their children."
An uneasy look entered Ryan's eyes. Drake carefully picked up his cup and tried not to stare, though he wanted nothing more than to watch the uncensored panic flood Ryan's face.
"And in dollars that would be...?"
"Oh, around one and a half million, I suppose. But I would expect you to have a sizeable gold repository by now, to keep my daughter in the manner to which she has become accustomed."
A glance up confirmed that Ryan was growing paler. This was far too amusing and soon he knew he would crack. "Oh...well, obviously."
"So I can expect the sum tomorrow then?"
Drake appreciated the full meltdown occurring behind Ryan's eyes just as he burst out laughing. A repertoire of emotions ran over Ryan's face, until he settled on weary embarrassment. "Okay, you got me."
Drake sniggered into his teacup and waited for his daughter to return. He was going to enjoy this wedding.
N.
When Norrin spotted the stray cufflinks in the fruit bowl, he was not overly surprised. However, on closer inspection, he recognised the particular pattern and felt that perhaps a few choice words were in order.
After dinner, when father and daughter had retired to talk at each other in Welsh and pretend not to understand, Norrin politely helped dry the dishes and started the conversation.
"Openness is usually appreciated in these situations."
Ryan stared at him for a moment, followed his gaze to the fruit bowl and then tensed. "Er..."
"Drake liked to tell me when he had a liaison, and I have become accustomed to doing the same. As she is mostly her father's daughter, I don't think it will be a problem."
A faint blush started developing on Ryan's cheeks. "Norrin..."
"A wedding ring means commitment, but not...monogamy. Necessarily. You should ask her."
Ryan set down the glass he was holding. "Look, he's-"
"He's Phoenix." Norrin smiled. "He...gets around."
Holding up his hands, Ryan closed his eyes. "Okay, firstly, I didn't need to know that about you guys, and secondly, Carly knows. Mostly because she's also...y'know...we're..."
Norrin smiled. "Oh. Good." At least someone was normal about these things.